


Bittersweet Ends and Thrilling New Chapters

by twoseas



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Goodbyes, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), in which Steve used time travel to take a brief sabbatical and acquire a dog and house, my boys are SOFT, peggy is wise and selfless, the steggy is bittersweet, the stucky is endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoseas/pseuds/twoseas
Summary: Peggy has always given Steve the best advice. This time is no different.A canon divergent AU in which Steve chooses the present over the past. Featuring teary eyed farewells, laughter filled new beginnings, a dog named Lincoln, and a chance at being happy.And don’t forget the end credits sequence.





	Bittersweet Ends and Thrilling New Chapters

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Steve Rogers!! 
> 
> I wrote this right after watching Endgame, all it was missing was the end, so it’s been languishing in my wip folder for awhile and I figured the Fourth of July/Steve Rogers’ birthday was the perfect time to finish and post it.
> 
> Please, enjoy!

**Peggy**

Peggy sat in a booth, the crowded club humming with life. She closed her eyes and held back the wave of sadness. 

She’d known he’d be late - more than late, in fact. It still hurt when he was. 

“May I have this dance?”

Eyes snapping towards the wavering voice, Peggy inhaled sharply. “Steve?”

He stood there, dressed in uniform but without the right signifiers - wrong rank, not decorated enough. 

She gawked, throat sticking with shock and emotion. Taking in every inch of him (wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, around his mouth, and etched into his forehead, hair longer and lighter in color as if greying), she categorized all the differences and came to a stark conclusion. 

“You’re not my Steve,” she murmured in disbelief, too quiet to be heard by anyone else. 

“Aren’t I?” His tone was pleading and the way he looked at her was all Steve. She felt something within her chest slot together. 

“Oh,” Peggy gasped, a quick but morose thing. “I suppose you are.”

She stood up without hesitation and accepted his hand. It trembled. 

He pulled her towards the dancefloor, watching her as if her face held the key to something. Everything. 

“I’d ask,” Peggy began slowly as they started to dance, relishing in the closeness. He felt right in her arms. “But I believe whatever you tell me will sound terribly impossible.”

“Probably,” he laughed. It caught in his throat and his eyes shone with unshed tears. 

“Then I think we ought to set that aside for now and enjoy our dance.”

Steve smiled at her and her heart raced while her own eyes blurred and stung. 

They danced all night, barely speaking but looking at each other with such intensity that Peggy was frankly surprised neither of them combusted from the force of it all. They were two of the last people to leave the club, walking out while the other lingering patrons stumbled. 

Together they walked until they stood alone beneath a street lamp. Steve’s hair glowed gold, his blue-green eyes unbearably sad. 

“Can I walk you home?” Steve offered, voice thick. 

“I want you to,” Peggy admitted with a little laugh. She took both of his hands between hers, marveling at the way they fit together. “So much that it hurts. But I don’t think you should. If you came that far with me, I’m afraid I’d want to keep you.”

His smile was sudden and bright as sunshine before it faded to melancholic grey. “Is that so bad?” 

“It is if you’ve somewhere else to be,” she told him honestly, fighting back her own selfishness. 

He looked down at their joined hands and squeezed gently. For such an impossibly strong man, he was undeniably soft. “That’s the thing, Peggy. I don’t know if I do.”

“Of course you do, Steve,” she chided, thumb stroking over the back of his hand. “The world has often been unkind to us, my darling. But that doesn’t mean we give up, it doesn’t mean we stop. We fight for those we love and we hold dear the memories of those we lost. I don’t know how you’re here, I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I know you well enough to see you’re hurting. You’ve had it rough, my love. And yet I can see that under all that pain and sadness, you have something you fight for. It could be an ideal or a duty, but I think we both know it’s people - for you, it has always been people. You are an exceptionally loving, caring, loyal man and you attract the same in others. Wherever, or whenever, you come from, you have people to hold onto. If you stay with me, what happens to them? Find your happiness, Steve, even if it’s not with me. And I’ll do the same. If I can carry on, you most certainly can as well.”

“How do you always know the right things to say.” He shook his head, awe and admiration in the breathiness of his voice.

“Because I’m very clever,” Peggy told him with a faint smirk. She took a deep breath and met his eyes directly, a wobble to her voice the only break in her composure. “I love you, Steve. Now stop being so dramatic and kiss me goodbye already.”

Steve, as always, did as she said. He dipped his head and kissed her, lips warm and shaky. The kiss reminded her of their last, sincere and wondering in a way she never felt before. There was so much emotion in the simple contact, but a tragic sense of finality as well. It hurt as much as it healed and when they parted they were both silently crying. 

He brushed away her tears and choked out, “I love you, Peggy. Goodbye.”

Barely stifling a sob, Peggy stood up on her toes and kissed him once more. “Goodbye, my love.”

She turned sharply and walked away, her heels clicking. She couldn’t bear to look back. She knew her limits, knew what she would do if she looked at him at just the wrong moment. The temptation of keeping him was too strong. But when she thought of the older version of her Steve, she perceived more than just the tragedies. She saw laugh lines. She saw proof of a life that had gone on and made a difference. She saw all she needed to know that Steve had a place, sure as she would carve her own. Grief sat heavy in her heart but she hadn’t lied to Steve when she said she would carry on. He would always be a part of her just as she would always be a part of him, but they had their time. They even got their dance. 

By the time she reached the end of the block, she knew Steve was gone. But he was alive and that made all the difference. Watery though it was, Peggy smiled. 

**Bucky**

A dog barked, a happy, playful boof in the distance. Bucky and Sam turned at the same time, frowning towards a park bench. A mutt was bouncing after a ball and a figure sat in repose. 

Bucky had spent enough years searching down alleys and staring through a scope providing cover for the back of that head. He knew exactly who sat there. 

He nudged Sam with an elbow and nod and watched them out of earshot. 

They talked. When the shield was passed towards Sam, Bucky wasn’t entirely surprised. A complicated feeling swelled in his chest. The foremost emotion in that indecipherable tangle was relief. 

Sam walked back up the little incline towards him, a dazed and unabashedly pleased smile plastered across his face. 

“You’re going to look like an idiot with that shield and those wings,” Bucky told him dryly. 

“Tell it to the shield,” Sam told him, smile never dropping as he strutted off. “Because this handsome face isn’t listening.”

Bucky shook his head and huffed a laugh. 

He breathed in and made his way to the bench, taking a seat beside Steve. He turned his head and tried not to show his surprise. 

Steve looked the same as he had when he left despite the civilian clothes he now wore. His expression was the only real sign that this Steve had maybe been gone longer than a few minutes. He didn’t look so broken, so sad. He seemed, for lack of a better word, calm. 

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky’s heart gave a tight squeeze. “Hey.”

They sat in the quiet. 

Steve broke it after maybe a minute. “I got a dog.”

“I see that,” Bucky chuckled as the dog dropped his ball to instead chase a butterfly, fluffy tail wagging. “He’s cute.”

“Yeah.” Steve leaned back with a contented sigh. “His name’s Lincoln. He’s a sweetheart.”

“You know…” Bucky looked for the right words. “I wasn’t sure I’d be seeing you again.”

Steve looked at him with a somber, earnest expression. “I would’ve always come back, Buck, one way or another.”

“How'd it go?” Bucky mumbled, eyes casting about and refusing to meet Steve’s beseeching gaze.

“Alright,” Steve sighed. “Took awhile getting all the stones back where they belonged. Saw some...crazy stuff.”

“Crazier than aliens and talking raccoons and time travel and magic space stones?” Eyebrows rising high, Bucky found that hard to believe. He was starting to run out of surprise.

“I saw Schmidt again,” Steve said without hesitation, his own brow lifting in challenge. 

“No shit?”

“No shit. The Red Skull’s on an alien planet now.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“He’s the guardian of one of the stones.”

“How is that fucking fair?”

“I punched him off a cliff.”

“Yeah,” Bucky laughed in stunned disbelief. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Steve pushed his hair off his forehead and Bucky was painfully reminded of what he was like when they were younger. “Yeah, well.”

Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, contemplating his next words and whether or not he even wanted to say them. “Saw you gave Sam the shield.”

“I did,” Steve confirmed with a neutral tone. “He’s more than earned it.”

“He’s good. A good choice. I can’t think of any other reckless assholes who’d uphold your legacy.”

“Hilarious,” Steve told him with a roll of his eyes. A serious expression took over. “I would’ve asked you, but I just figured...Bucky, you’ve done your fighting. And if you keep fighting that’s your choice. You deserve the shield, I think you’re one of the most deserving people I’ve ever known, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated. Not to me, not to the shield, not to any of it.”

Bucky’s chest felt tight again, emotion choking him while he swallowed the reaction down. “Thanks, Steve. I- thanks.”

They sat for awhile in tension laden silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, that wasn’t the problem, but it felt heavy somehow. Like there was more they weren’t saying. The air between them crackled with those unspoken things and Bucky held down the swell of feeling within him. 

Steve diffused it by bringing up, “I’ve got a house now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. Pretty nice. I had to fix it up a little. It was like Link, abandoned after Thanos and never reclaimed. The place has a lot of room.”

Bucky smiled, small but genuine. 

**Six Months Later**

Bucky entered the house, work bag thrown over his shoulder. When he got to the palm code locked closet, he threw the bag of guns and ammunition into the designated space and shut the door, the lock clicking into place with an audible certainty.

“Steve?” 

Paws clicked on the hardwood floors, Lincoln running up to greet him. 

“Hey, boy,” Bucky cooed, scratching the dog on the head before running his fingers over velvety soft ears. “Where’s your dad?”

Link hopped off, leading Bucky through the house and out to the backdoor. 

Steve was laid out in the backyard, a thick blanket between him and the grass. He had headphones in, eyes pointed up towards the stars. His sketchbook was beside him but set aside, closed with the pencil sat atop the cover. When Bucky got close enough, he could see the wistfulness in Steve’s expression. 

“Missing space?” Bucky casually asked. He laid down beside Steve, their arms close enough to brush. He very carefully didn’t pay attention to that point of contact. 

With a snort, Steve turned his head and took out his headphones, wry smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “Thinking a little closer to home, actually.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense here, Stevie,” Bucky prodded. 

Gaze snapping back up to the night sky, Steve took a moment to collect himself. “Just thinking. We never did go to the Grand Canyon, did we?”

That surprised a laugh out of Bucky, nostalgic and wistful in his own way. He remembered planning out that trip with Steve when they were kids, wondering at the pictures of the place, swearing they’d make a trip out there together. They never stopped planning that road trip either, the itinerary getting more and more elaborate as they learned about the places between New York and the Grand Canyon. Then, when the war broke out and everything that came with it, they used it as a goal, something they’d do once they won, once they had peace. “No, no we didn’t.”

“We should go,” Steve murmured softly, quiet as the breeze through the leaves. 

Bucky searched Steve’s expression, a pang of longing in his gut. “Yeah, why not?”

“Yeah?” Steve turned his head and met Bucky’s eyes, his grin hopeful and blinding in his excitement. Steve got excited about so few things and Bucky knew he had to make this trip happen. 

“Yeah,” he nodded assuredly. “We just took out that Hammer guy so I should have some downtime barring any world threatening events. Want me to invite Sam?”

Steve hesitated, thinking it over, while Bucky held his breath. “No, I think Sam’s going to visit family. Besides, I kind of want it to just be you and me, you know?”

Bucky breathed out a shuddering sigh, nodding in lieu of speaking when his throat felt too choked up to answer with words. 

They looked up at the stars together, Lincoln snuffling around the yard rather than paying them any attention. 

“Bucky,” Steve muttered, voice hushed and tentative. “I know I’m not...good at this. But I want you to know how much this means to me. Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s my trip too. Not like I’m being selfless here.” Bucky squirmed, insides feeling warm and fluttery. 

“Not just the trip,” Steve shook his head, hair ruffling where his head was pressed to the blanket. “Everything. Moving in with me. Being here. It means a lot, Buck. So, thank you.”

Face hot and heart in his throat, Bucky aimed for cool and nonchalant and landed somewhere in dangerously close to tears. “Of course. ‘Til the end of the line, right?”

“‘Til the end of the line.”

Feeling braver than he’d felt in years, maybe ever, Bucky inched his hand over, careful and wary, until he was able to brush the tips of his fingers to the back of Steve’s hand. Steve immediately turned his hand over, linking their fingers together.

Bucky stared in awe of their joined hands before looking up to search Steve’s face. Though it was dark, Bucky swore Steve’s face was red. His eyes were directed at their hands too - right until they weren’t. 

When Steve met his gaze, his expression was brilliantly, astoundingly happy. Bucky couldn’t remember making someone else this happy, especially from something as simple as holding their hand, even back before the war and his time as the Winter Soldier. Steve’s eyes were brilliant, shining brighter than any star above them, and his grin was infectious with its pure delight. To make the whole situation better, more real, there was also a faint trace of embarrassment in his smile, a bashfulness in the way he looked at Bucky through his lashes. 

Bucky felt a blush spread across his own face even as his smile grew wide and pleased. He basked in the feeling, fingers warm and tingly where they were intertwined with Steve’s. 

Unable to stay quiet while the emotions that filled his heart swelled and heaved and begged for release, Bucky spoke in as exaggerated a fashion as he could while he said, “Hey, sugar. You rashioned?”

Steve froze before groaning, his free hand coming up to cover his face. “Oh my god,” he laughed helplessly. “Why, Bucky?”

“Why not?” Bucky snickered. 

“You’re the worst type of person,” Steve declared dryly, trying and failing to hide his smile. 

“You don’t actually think so,” Bucky said, partly smug and partly immensely grateful. 

“God, I love you, but you’re such a jackass,” Steve told him, eyes dancing. 

Bucky looked at him and saw the truth of his words, the sentiment practically pouring from Steve in waves - from the brightness of his eyes to the creases of his laugh lines. 

“Love you too, Steve,” Bucky whispered, wanting Steve and only Steve to hear, to know the deepest truth he had when it came to Steve. 

Steve ducked his head diffidently and Bucky couldn’t resist - moreover, he realized he didn’t need to, not anymore. 

Sitting up and leaning over Steve, Bucky pressed their joined hands into the space between both their chests. He imagined that he could feel their hearts beating in sync. Long hair brushing over the side of Steve’s face, Bucky dipped his head and met Steve’s lips with his own, the kiss chaste and gentle and the fulfillment of a life long wish. Steve responded immediately, his lips yielding before pushing ever so slightly back, the reciprocation everything Bucky had longed for despite never expecting to actually have it. 

When they pulled apart they both let out shaky breaths before laughing, shock and surprise and undeniable love saturating the air around them. 

Steve tipped his head up for one more quick peck before pulling Bucky down to rest beside him, the two of them now pressed together and cuddling. 

Bucky nuzzled against the space below Steve’s jaw, lips grazing the soft skin of his neck. Steve shivered and Bucky couldn’t help the smug, triumphant grin the reaction inspired. 

“We’re going to have so much sex,” Bucky told him, voice low and matter of fact.

“Bucky!”

Enjoying the scandalized but aroused tone of Steve’s voice, Bucky snorted and pushed himself even closer, the warmth of Steve’s body seeping into his own. 

“Come on, Steve. We both know we’re sure things.”

Steve was quiet and for a second Bucky was sure he’d overstepped but then Steve gave a considering hum. “Do you think we can have sex at the Grand Canyon?”

Biting back a laugh, Bucky nodded, certain Steve could feel it. “Doll, we can have sex whereever we want.”

He meant it. He really, really meant it.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> —Vormir—
> 
> The Red Skull, former guardian of the soul stone, was still in death. His dark robes spilled around his motionless form like the deepest of shadows. An unnaturally bent leg was revealed beneath the no longer billowing cloak, Schmidt’s arms splayed in opposite directions. His red face looked less vibrant, an ashen cast to the waxy, crimson skin. His corpse looked more human than he had in decades - generations. It was better than he deserved. 
> 
> Miles away, Natasha awoke with a groan. She was surrounded by cool, still water that reflected the stars and galaxies above. Her neck and back hurt, her limbs felt leaden. She stretched, forcing responsiveness into her arms and legs. She flexed the fingers of her empty hands and looked around, brow furrowed in confusion. Memories came back in flashes, her lips pursing as she remembered everything. She remembered the condition to retrieve the soul stone, she remembered fighting Clint to the edge. She remembered his hand clinging desperately to hers. She remembered dying. 
> 
> Glaring up at the sky as she got to her feet, Natasha murmured a heartfelt, “What the fuck.”
> 
> Staying there would be a stupid decision. Waiting for someone to get her even worse. Natasha cracked her neck, checked her weapons, and marched off. She had home and family to get back to.
> 
> — — — 
> 
> A soul for a soul.


End file.
